


In Trouble

by morrezela



Series: In Hiding [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dragons, M/M, Mindwiping, Secret Identity, Secrets, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 21:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'In Hiding': When Jared wakes up for the third time In Jensen’s bed without a memory of what he did the night before, he figured he had a problem. He just didn’t think that his problem was dragons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: dragon!fic, evil!Misha, sort-of-amnesia, and mind wiping.
> 
> A/N: This is my twenty-second fill for my Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card. The square is ‘explosion.’
> 
> This is a sequel to In Hiding. Apparently it just wasn’t cool to have it end on such a sad note, so I promised that I’d write a little something extra.

Jared wakes up to the sad conclusion that he has a drinking problem. He thought at first that maybe he was just getting used to the trendy Hollywood life. After all, attending parties and getting to know the right people was more than half the battle to getting cast in better roles.

Even before he’d gotten a good agent, Jared had known that a lot of becoming a well respected actor had to do with the way that the corporate suits reacted to him. It was just that he’d had a horrible agent before who couldn’t get him into a school play audition let alone seen for the kind of parts and parties he has been getting these days.

His new agent appreciates Jared’s dedication and hard work. Because he does more, she’s willing to work harder on his career.

But Jared’s career isn’t what is concerning him at that moment – at least not directly.

What is bothering him is the pounding headache going on in his skull and the fact that he is staring at a ceiling that isn’t his – again. That he knows it is Jensen’s ceiling is the result of having stared at it before with the same throbbing headache that he’s currently experiencing.

Fuck but he needs to be sober the next time that he fucks Jensen Ackles.

The first two times were embarrassing enough. The man that he had lusted after for forever finally thinks that Jared is good enough to screw around with, and Jared is so hammered that he barely remembers anything the next day. To add insult to injury, Jared manages to do this not only once, but twice.

And Jensen has to genuinely like him because Jensen doesn’t just sleep around with random, drunken people no matter how pretty he has deemed them to be. Add to that the fact that Jared knows that Jensen doesn’t bring his dates back to his place unless he really likes them, and Jared shouldn’t need those levels of liquid courage to make another move on Jensen. He should be able to do this sober by now and wakeup without the hangover.

Only Jared has some residual worry over the whole blackout amnesia thing. He doesn’t remember if they set ground rules or anything for their hookups, and Jared has had to interfere with enough seduction attempts on Jensen to know that the guy seriously dislikes unwanted attention.

Of course, now that Jared is waking up in Jensen’s bed for a third time, he figures there is a good chance that his former boss thinks he’s an awesome lay. Jared has a bit of a hard time wrapping his head around the thought because nobody is good in the sack while trashed, but maybe his blackout drinking makes him a sex god, and he doesn’t know it. Or Jensen could have a thing for clingy, drooling idiots.

Jared’s been around. He knows not to judge a kink.

Maybe if Jensen is really into the blottoed Jared look, Jared can convince him to tape their sex so that he can enjoy it later when his hangover wears off. It might be nice to finally see and remember Jensen in his naked and sweaty sex state.

Jared shakes his head to clear it of the thought, thinking instead of how he should quit hanging around Chad so much. That thought also goes by the wayside as a sharp, stabbing pain assaults Jared’s senses. It is not part of his regular hangover regimen, so Jared reaches up to touch his head try to rub the pain away only to encounter a bandage on his forehead.

And, okay this isn’t good. He has never imagined that he and Jensen ever got up to anything dangerous while they were fooling around. Jensen just never struck him as the kind of guy that wanted to bounce on his overly expensive silk sheets and risk breaking his fancy mattress or extravagant bedframe.

Hesitantly Jared moves into a sitting position. His body aches with the motion, but it doesn’t ache anywhere that would say that he had a remotely good time the night before.

Jared actually feels pretty goddamned horrible, and that is sadly his first clue that this is not in fact his third go ‘round in the sack with one Mr. Jensen Ackles. He’s never seen Jensen be anything other than caring and polite and gentle towards those that he cares about. Sex aside, Jared knows that his former boss likes him. Jensen wouldn’t have pulled the strings that he did to get Jared his break if he didn’t.

Gingerly, Jared pushes himself out of the plush, greatly oversized bed that he has been resting in. A wave of dizziness hits him, and his eyes stutter across the bedside table as he falls back against the sinfully soft and opulent monstrosity that Jensen sleeps on.

There are medications and a glass of water on the nightstand. Upon closer inspection, Jared can see his own name on the bottles of prescription pain killers and anti-nausea pills.

Great. Just. Great.

So much for making it on his own without taking advantage of Jensen’s name too much. Whatever trouble Jared got himself into ended up involving doctors. If Jared is with Jensen instead of at a hospital or with Chad, then Jensen pulled some strings to get Jared to his home and some prescriptions as well.

Jared isn’t sure how he feels about that. On the one hand, it is a good sign that Jensen might care more than Jared thinks he does. On the other hand, it smacks of Jared being a kept boy. Worse, there is the possibility of rumors starting about Jared and private doctors who give him drugs, and he doesn’t want to be that sort of actor. It isn’t about being famous. It’s about doing what he loves, and gossip rags might bring attention and money, but they don’t bring integrity.

As he can’t remember shit, and he feels like a steaming pile of said substance, Jared figures he has two options. He can either lie back down and wallow while he prays to die, or he can go find Jensen and demand answers.

The first option is far more appealing than the second for a multitude of reasons ranging from Jared’s physical to emotional to psychological discomfort, but he knows that somebody has to man up and have an intervention with Jared Padalecki, and that somebody is him. He has got to break the cycle of Jensen related amnesia.

The lavish and long hallways of Jensen’s mansion are comforting in their familiarity. The soft wool carpeting under Jared’s bare feet feels good and keeps him company as he stumbles along to the rhythmic pounding in his skull.

It doesn’t take him long to hear voices and recognize one as Jensen’s. His former employer is audibly upset, angry even, and as Jared approaches, he is surprised to recognize the other voice as Misha Collins’.

Misha is one of the costars of the film that Jared landed a role on. He is playing the love interest of the super spy heroine. It is the part that Jared originally auditioned for, but he was deemed too tall to realistically play the lover to the five foot nothing starlet.

“I’m not letting you see him,” Jensen tells Misha in his flat, no nonsense, deal breaking voice that Jared never imagined would be used in conjunction with himself.

“You can’t stop me. You don’t have any real right,” Misha argues back brazenly in a tone that Jared would never dream of using on Jensen in the first place, and certainly not in the mood he seems in at the moment.

“You almost killed him,” Jensen hisses.

Misha laughs are that. “So protective of a boy that isn’t even yours, doesn’t even want to be yours.”

“That isn’t the point,” Jensen says.

“Of course it is. You’re ruffling your wings and puffing your chest because I moved in on your territory, and I had the balls to go after somebody who won’t ever want you for more than a quick screw.”

Jared isn’t an idiot. He knows that they’re talking about him, and he is a little weirded out by the way that Misha is talking. His costar, or lead actor if Jared is more honest about their respective roles, has been a little flirty and insistent since they met, but Jared is certain that he’d given the appropriate “no” signals. It had been flattering, sure, but Jared hadn’t been interested.

“That doesn’t mean that you can see him,” Jensen continues to argue, “not after what you did.”

“And what did I do? Got the movie, Jared’s movie, some publicity? You know as well as I do that thing is going straight to DVD if it’s lucky, and it’ll be a miracle if it makes its budget back. A little drama might get the circulation up.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” Jensen sounds skeptical. “You expect me to buy that you rigged that explosion just to circulate your movie more?”

“I’m saying that I would do that, yes. Come on, Jensen, how long have we been dancing to this song? You’re still stuck in our ancestors’ days of yore, trying to protect and nurture silly humans who would just as soon shoot you if they knew what you really are. Or, given how they’ve taken an interest in science, strap you to a table to experiment on you, then shoot you.”

“Quit trying to change the subject,” Jensen snaps.

“Me? I’m not changing the subject. I’m pointing out that your view on this situation is skewed because you’re still focusing on obtaining a life that died out ages ago. Poor, Gold Jensen, still trying to make his own personal fairy tale – complete with happily ever after. Didn’t anybody ever tell you that humans kill dragons for their happy endings?”

“My scales aren’t gold, and I will cut off my own nose before I let you see Jared,” Jensen’s voice sounds strained as he speaks.

“Oh for… It isn’t my fault that he was closer to the explosives than I had planned. You know how he is. Always in the wrong place.”

“Jared shouldn’t have needed to be farther away from the explosives. If you had left those charges alone, he would never have gotten hurt,” Jensen almost sounds like he’s growling more than talking, and it adds a bit of fear into the mix of confusion that Jared is feeling.

“But how else would I have comforted him from his shock?” Misha sounds fakely innocent, and Jared’s guts twist.

“Possibly by not treating him so horribly,” Jensen answers him. “Do you handle all precious things so poorly, or is it only humans that you do this with?”

“Treasure is made to be used, Jensen. Letting go of hoarding would be very liberating for you.”

“Get out of my home,” Jensen orders.

“You mean your lair?” Misha taunts,” but you don’t want that. If I go now, who knows what reporter will come along to publish a gossip column about Jared’s sexual preferences and his elite sugar daddy.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Don’t be silly. You know that I’m threatening you. You just don’t want to admit it because my threat isn’t any good if Jared doesn’t care for his career more than he cares for you. But he doesn’t care for you, not the way you want him to. You want your heart stolen, don’t you? You’ve got this ridiculous notion in your skull that someday Jared is going to want to come along and steal your poor dragon heart from you. He’ll scratch at your scales, and you’ll dote upon him, and it will be the most perfect thing ever.”

Jared isn’t sure what kind of crack Misha is on, but the dragon thing is getting very strange so he starts to back away from the entryway that he had originally been approaching. He doesn’t know why Jensen is playing along with Misha’s game. The threats are concerning, sure, but it should be easy to prove that Misha isn’t sane if Jensen could get him to say anything like that in front of a doctor or even better - a reporter. Reporters always judge first and ask questions later. It sells more issues.

Jared stumbles more on the way back to Jensen’s bedroom than he did when he was traveling away from it. His head starts to pound even harder and vertigo sets in about the time that he makes it back to the mattress. If he had the energy, Jared would hurl. As it is, he just crawls back under the covers and stays very still in the hope of all of the nasty sensations his body is experiencing subsiding.

He wants to think about the conversation that he just heard, but his mind keeps jumping track whenever he has a pertinent thought. One moment he’s thinking about how Jensen had said that Misha had almost killed him with an explosion, and the next he’s worrying about the dry cleaning that he forgot to pick up. Only it’s Jensen’s dry cleaning, and Jared knows he picked it up because that happened months ago when Jensen was still cutting him a paycheck every two weeks.

“Jared?” Jensen’s soft voice digs daggers into Jared’s brain.

“Tell Misha to go fuck himself,” Jared slurs as he tries to focus on Jensen.

“I thought I heard you,” Jensen mumbles as he creeps over to Jared’s beside. “How’re you feeling?”

“Horrible,” Jared answers truthfully.

Jensen’s face goes from worried to incredibly sad at Jared’s proclamation, and he immediately starts fluffing the pillows around Jared’s head and checking the tablet of paper that is sitting on the nightstand along with Jared’s medications.

“You can’t take another painkiller for another hour, but can I get you anything else?” Jensen asks as he unnecessarily pulls the covers up farther on the bed and actually tucks Jared into bed.

“An explanation?” Jared prompts.

“Misha is crazy,” Jensen says immediately. It bothers Jared because he knows Jensen, and that is totally Jensen’s lying tone.

“Right,” Jared drawls out sarcastically.

“Look, Jared, Misha has connections, but he doesn’t have the kind of power that I do. You don’t need to worry about your sexual preferences getting bandied around town.”

Jared frowns, but all that does it make his head throb more, so he stops it. “I’m not worried about my career, Jensen. I’m worried about the fact that my costar tried to kill me.”

Jensen sighs and very carefully hitches himself up to sit on the edge of the mattress. “He wasn’t trying to kill you. Misha is very good with explosives and detonators. He just isn’t good at always accurately judging human behaviors. The explosion was meant to scare you, not injure you.”

“Scare me straight into his arms?” Jared asks.

“Yes.”

“But Misha doesn’t even like me all that much. I’m not his type,” Jared whines because it’s way easier to focus on that than to think about his costar having great prowess at blowing things up.

Jensen grunts and rubs a thumb over his eyebrow. “It’s because of me.”

“Come again?”

“Misha is… a rival of sorts. He’s been trying to best me for years now, and you’re… available.”

“There are a lot of pauses going on in that sentence,” Jared observes out loud even though it’s rude. He figures he’s got a right. He’s in pain and concussed.

“I suppose there are,” Jensen agrees with a sad little smile.

“So the two of you are playing tug of war, and I’m the rope?”

“No! Never! Jared I, I wouldn’t, I couldn’t, I, you,” Jensen sputters, and the sight still makes Jared smile. It brings back memories of all of the times that his boss would get wrong footed by some man or woman deciding to come on to him. It was like Jensen never considered the possibility that he was the one with the power to be attractive.

“I don’t get it,” Jared says, sparing Jensen from continued stammering. “Misha isn’t anywhere near as big of a name as you are. He isn’t even in the talent management business.”

“Ah,” Jensen says, looking distinctly uncomfortable, “that.”

“Yes, that,” Jared says, willing his headache away so that he can focus on their conversation.

Jensen stays silent, so Jared figures that he needs to ask the question that he doesn’t want to ask, “What was Misha talking about when he was talking about dragons? Are you in the mafia or something?”

Jensen bursts out laughing for a second before sobering. “Sorry,” he says, “it’s just sort of ironic that you said that is all.”

Jared moans, and it is half exasperation and half pain. “Jensen, just tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t, Jared. You’re injured, and I won’t risk you like that. You aren’t mine, I know, but you are special to me.”

“Did I hit my head harder than it feels like I did? Because you aren’t making any sense,” Jared tells him.

“You should rest, get better,” Jensen tells him as he starts fiddling with the covers again like that will magically cure Jared’s aches and pains.

“Look, Jensen,” Jared says as he covers Jensen’s fidgeting hands with his own, “unless I’m a hypochondriac and way overblowing how I feel, I’m going to be here a while. You might as well just tell me now.”

“I’m a dragon,” Jensen blurts out.

“Okay, so what’s really going o… HOLY SHIT!” Jared yells and then immediately regrets it as the noise and accompanying motion aggravates his injuries. Whatever the hell Misha made go kablooey, it must’ve sent either Jared flying into something or something flying into Jared.

But even as the wave of pain subsides, Misha’s pyrotechnics fade quickly to the back of Jared’s mind because Jensen is glowing. His eyes are luminescent and his freckles are glittering spots on his skin. It’s not a magic trick. It can’t be because if it is, Jensen has spent way too much money on tormenting an ailing ex-employee.

Then Jared’s brain catches up because, he’s slept with that. He’s slept with that and forgotten about it the next day, and what if these ‘dragons’ are somehow draining his brain, and that is what is causing him the massive headache? He isn’t sexy at all! He’s just got a sexy tasting brain… or something.

“Jared, you need to calm down,” Jensen tells him.

“Calm down? You’re eating my brain!”

“What?”

“You and Misha are eating my brain,” Jared tells him again, because it’s so obvious.

Jensen frowns and turns to glare suspiciously at the medications. “Stupid doctor,” he mutters to himself, “I specifically told him not to give you anything that would make you crazy.”

“It’s not the drugs,” Jared insists. “You and Misha are eating my brain away.”

Jensen sighs and looks at him sadly. “I’m not eating your brain, Jared. I’m just… making you happier by not letting you remember. I’ve tried twice now, and you’re always very upset by what I am, so you don’t need to worry about it happening again.”

“And that doesn’t sound like brain eating to you?” Jared asks. He should have a better comeback than that, but he is in pain. He’ll go with what he can get.

“It isn’t the same at all! Do you think that I want to be alone? Do you think that I enjoy it when you cower away from me in the morning?” Jensen spits the words out like Jared is the one to blame, and that just isn’t fair. Jared is injured, and he doesn’t remember and Jensen’s been eating his brain.

“Assuming that’s true,” Jared grunts as he pushes himself up into a seated position despite the worried glares and glances Jensen shoots at him, “why am I here now?”

“Because!” Jensen says like that is supposed to be an answer.

“Jensen, dude, I’m concussed. Can we at least argue like civilized people – creatures?”

“I’m not a creature; I’m a person,” Jensen says sadly, his eyes leaving Jared’s face to stare at his overly indulgent flooring. “And you’re not concussed, just really badly banged up. If you were concussed I would have had you moved to a private hospital room and hired you a few nurses and a bodyguard.”

Jared wants to point out that such a plan would’ve been overkill, but he’s worked for Jensen. The guy doesn’t have a concept of overkill when he’s got his heart set on something, especially if it is for the benefit of somebody else.

“I feel like I’m concussed,” Jared decided to argue instead.

“I didn’t say that you didn’t hit your head,” Jensen says to his oak flooring and hand-tied Persian rugs, “I said that you weren’t concussed. Misha’s blast threw you around like a ragdoll. You’re lucky he didn’t give you brain damage.”

“I’m lucky you haven’t given me brain damage,” Jared retorts.

“Quit comparing me to him! I’m nothing like that, that selfish, black scaled, filthy piece of indulgent…” Jensen takes a deep breath and blows it out. Jared swears that he can see the air waver like steam is rising through it.

“Okay, so you expect me to believe that you’re not going to do whatever it is you’ve done to me before and erase this whole thing from my mind?” Jared challenges.

“I can’t,” Jensen mumbles.

“That doesn’t sound like ‘I won’t’ to me,” Jared points out.

“Because it isn’t,” Jensen says. “Would you like me to lie to you and say otherwise? Because you’re happier not knowing. Humans in this day and age generally don’t want to have to think about us, and if they do think about us, it’s because we’re monsters to be slain. Misha is right about that much. But you’re too injured to erase what is there. I won’t risk you like that, and by the time that you’re healed, it will be too much of a risk to change your memories. That large of a gap is unhealthy for you.”

“Well I’m so glad that you’ve been making that decision for me on my own behalf,” Jared snarls.

“And what about my behalf? I don’t want you to live in fear and worry. I don’t want me to live in fear that you’re going to go spout off to some friends and get committed, and I don’t want my treasures hunted down and burned alive because they’re associating with a dragon.”

“So that gives you a right to play god with my brain?” Jared asks.

Jensen’s ire deflates, and his shoulders slump. “No,” he mumbles like a chastised child.

“But you keep doing it,” Jared feels like he’s a dog after a bone, but he can’t help it.

“I keep getting myself into situations where I need to,” Jensen tells the lamp with a shrug.

The lack of eye contact is starting to get annoying, but Jared’s head still hurts even if he isn’t technically concussed, and he doesn’t think he can handle a stare down, so he doesn’t pull out his mother’s favorite, “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” line.

Instead he asks Jensen, “Why? If you know that you’re going to end up having to mind whammy me, why do you keep doing it?”

“Hope,” Jensen answers immediately. “I just keep hoping that this time it’ll be different, you know? Stupid thinking isn’t just a human condition. I get myself worked up with the idea that maybe, just maybe you’ll want me as I am because you’re so… I forget that you’re human and want human things.”

“I’m so what?” Jared queries, unwilling to let Jensen get by with another dropped sentence.

“Perfect?” Jensen says with a lilt that sounds suspiciously like he’s going to cry or something. “I don’t know really. I just can’t quit wanting you even though you aren’t mine, and you don’t want me to be yours, not when you know what I am anyway. And I can’t be human for you. I would if I could, but I can’t pretend. Not when I feel for you the way that I do.”

“That’s probably the most messed up confession of love I’ve ever heard,” Jared tells him, “and I was there when Chad told his girlfriend he loved her by spelling it out on a laminated tabletop with beer nuts and chewed on lime slices from tequila shooters.”

Jensen flinches, but says, “Sounds kind of romantic to me. I’d take it.”

And, well, doesn’t that make Jared feel like really low scum? He should be up in arms with the fact that Jensen has been fucking around with his memory and making him think he’s an alcoholic. He should be freaking out that there is an actual dragon right next to him and apparently an even more psycho dragon trying to use nefarious means to get him into bed, but he’s feeling bad for the pathetic rich man sitting next to him.

Thinking of Misha makes Jared’s brain stop. “Wait, if you’ve been screwing with my head, does that mean that Misha can too?”

As unhappy as he is with the knowledge that Jensen’s been playing around with his mind, he thinks that a guy who thinks blowing shit up is a good way to get a date is a way worse person to have with that kind of power.

“No, Misha is a black dragon. He’s not nearly as powerful as I am, just more deceitful and lustful. They follow after their desires and feed on their mysterious ways. They’re generally better at blending in with humans and stealing their treasures away from them.”

“And, um, gold dragons aren’t that good at stealing?”

“Gold dragons don’t steal at all,” Jensen corrects him as his eyes finally turn to focus on Jared again, “but I’m not one of the prissy, preening, precocious fools either. Stupid Misha,” Jensen tacks on.

“This is getting complicated,” Jared mumbles to himself before asking Jensen, “So what kind are you then?”

“Copper of course,” Jensen’s chest puffs out ridiculously as he announces this like it’s akin to winning an Oscar or something.

Jared just lets his cluelessness sit on his face.

“Right,” Jensen says dejectedly, “that doesn’t mean anything to you either.”

“Well no but, I mean,” Jared’s scrambled brain scrambles to think of something to perk Jensen up. “It sound pretty?” he offers. He has often thought that Jensen’s favorite word is, ‘pretty,’ so it seems like a good choice.

“My scales are very, very pretty. And shiny,” Jensen confirms for him with just a hint of arrogant pride creeping into his tone.

“Can I see them?” Jared asks. He isn’t sure if that’s a great idea given how freaked he was at the whole glowing thing, but he’s apparently in possession of a deep compunction to keep Jensen happy.

Jensen’s face grows bashful, almost shy, and he shakes his head. “I don’t think you want that. I… You don’t really want to touch them, do you?”

His words sound stupidly hopeful, and Jared can’t bring himself to tell Jensen that he was only going for a very timid peek. Jared’s been known to be foolhardy though, so he tells Jensen, “Sure, I mean, why not?”

Jensen’s smile is so wide that he fucking beams, and he scrambles off the bed. Then he starts yanking his clothes off in a flurry of motion, and despite the situation, Jared is a little mad at how shitty his entire body feels because Jensen’s body is really nice under his clothes. He would’ve liked the chance to appreciate the view with some pleasant instead of unpleasant throbbing.

Then his selfish thoughts about sex evaporate because Jensen is glowing again, and suddenly the enormousness of all of Jensen’s rooms and hallways seem less like a rich man’s indulgence and more of a necessity because there is a freaking dragon taking up most of the room. Jensen is huge.

“So?” Jensen’s voice echoes inside of Jared’s head, but while it’s creepy, it isn’t painful. He sounds shy and timid, but his neck arches, and he’s very clearly preening for Jared’s benefit.

“They’re very shiny,” Jared says as his eye rake over Jensen’s scales. They’re the color of freshly minted pennies in some places and darker in others, around his joints and his eye ridges. If Jared squints, he can see the tips of some of them are green like the Statue of Liberty.

“You’re green,” Jared says dumfoundedly. He didn’t think that the copper part was quite so literal.

“I am not!” Jensen sounds offended. “Stupid green dragons aren’t nearly as pretty as I am!”

Jared laughs a little at that because greedy compulsiveness is nothing new, but he’s never heard Jensen sound egotistical before. “I meant your scale tips,” Jared clarifies.

“Oh,” Jensen goes back to sounding bashful, “you like? I let some of the sulfates sit on there when I go to the beach because the color is so pretty. I can scrub it off if you think it’s ugly.”

“No, no it’s good,” Jared assures him.

“Do you want to touch them?” Jensen hesitantly asks.

“Sure,” Jared says. Why the hell not? He’s stuck in bed with a table full of drugs and a gigantic dragon who he thinks he’s already slept with twice. What’s a little scale touching?

Jensen makes a chirring sound and instead of creeping closer like Jared expected him to do, he pounces up onto the bed and curls his gigantic body up next to Jared’s, and all Jared can see for a moment in his mind’s eye is that stupid commercial where they drop bowling balls onto a mattress next to wine glasses, and the glasses don’t topple over. He’s very grateful that Jensen spent so much money on his sleeping place because Jared’s body is hurting at the mere thought of being jostled by the gigantic dragon.

“You fit,” Jared says dumbly once Jensen is settled in next to him. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. He knows that everything about the bed was custom made to Jensen’s very picky specifications. He just never thought that those specifications were because he on occasion turned into a dragon and actually needed all of the room.

Jensen’s snout blows out a stream of hot air and his unnaturally green eyes roll a little as if he thinks Jared is being a touch dense. “Of course I fit. I’m not stupid,” Jensen tells him as he wriggles just that much closer.

Jared feels something large and heavy slide over the tops of his legs, and a quick glance down lets him know that there is a part of a scaly tail sliding back and forth across the top of Jensen’s silk comforter.

The sight mesmerizes Jared’s brain for a second before it sinks in that Jensen’s tail is wagging. He thinks that the hysterical laughter that follows is completely justified even if Jensen huffs another breath of hot air onto him when he realizes what Jared thinks is funny.

“Like you don’t wiggle your ass when you’re happy,” Jensen says hesitantly. Jared thinks he’s trying to be teasing, but it’s coming off strained because, well, because.

When Jared turns to face the giant head that is resting next to him on the neighboring pillows, he can see the tenseness in Jensen’s eyes. He’s actually nervous which is an unusual expression for Jensen, and it takes Jared a few seconds to remember that Jensen climbed up on the bed for a reason.

It takes a surprisingly large amount of summoned courage for Jared to reach his hand out and touch Jensen’s hide. The scales are warm and smooth and far more giving to the touch than Jared expected them to be. They’re more like leather than a hardened shell, and if the purring that Jensen starts doing is any indication, they’re also sensitive.

“Jared,” the voice inside of Jared’s head is almost a moan as Jensen’s neck arches into Jared’s touch. He sounds ecstatic.

Jared sure doesn’t know what that means, and he’s too tired to try to talk to Jensen anymore, so he just keeps petting at the warm hide until the motion eventually lulls him to sleep. His last thought as his aching body relaxes against the sheets is that he can think about it in the morning.


End file.
